The Three Crowns epub by Jean Plaidy

Prince of Wales too. The Duke of York was not popular—or at least not as his father was; and who would better follow his father than his father’s son?
    Of course life in every other respect was good. He was eighteen, rich, honored wherever he went, the companion of the King, flattered, attractive to women; and although he was not clever or witty like the King and his friends, they excused that on account of his youth. He was clearly the King’s son; tall, dark, yet he had inherited his mother’s beauty; what he had taken from his father was a love of racing and women; he was no coward; he was generous. No one could doubt he was the son of his father.
    And now to Richmond. On what excuse? He was not going to let James think that he had come over to curry favor. What did he care for James? James was not very popular at the moment. The Denham affair was still remembered and whenever it was talked of James’s name was always mentioned.
    He would talk of the ballet he was planning for the King’s pleasure and tell them he hoped the Duke and the Duchess would take part, slyly suggesting the part of some sylph for the Duchess. That would be a good joke against her. As for James he should have the part of a libertine with sly references to his prowess which he would not see but the clever Court wits would soon understand.
    When he reached Richmond Palace he did not ask to be conducted to the Duke of York’s presence. It occurred to him that James might refuse to see him, or even make him wait. The Duke of Monmouth would accept no such insult from the Duke of York. Therefore he waved aside the Duke’s servants and said he was in no hurry. Thus, left to himself, he came to the children’s apartments and wandering in found Mary and Anne were with the Villiers girls. It appeared that the eldest of these girls was in charge. The Duke was not attracted by her; she was too plain, and there was a slight squint in her eyes. But his cousins were charming, particularly Mary, who rose at the sight of him and flushing a little came forward. It irritated him that her rank should be considered higher than his when she was merely the daughter of the Duke of York, and he was the son of the King. Yet because her father had married her mother.… It was the old complaint which made him almost sick with anger.
    “It is my cousin!” cried Mary, her dark almond-shaped eyes betraying her pleasure. She was an enchanting child and Monmouth, who always found beauty irresistible, knelt, and taking her hand kissed it.
    “Come here, Anne,” commanded Mary, and her sister waddled over to him. She was remarkably plump and even as she greeted her cousin she was sucking a sweet.
    “I trust I see you well,” he said.
    “We are well thank you, cousin,” answered Mary gravely. “And we trust you are also.”
    Elizabeth Villiers was pushing forward. A pox on her! thought Monmouth. These Villiers give themselves too many airs.
    “I was passing,” he said pointedly, “and I thought it would be pleasant to call on my cousins.”
    Elizabeth looked angry, her sisters watched her, ready to take their cue from her. Mary was not one to harbor grudges, but since Elizabeth had worried her with references to her father and grandfather she was glad to be relieved of her company; and she could not resist a glance over her shoulder as Monmouth took her hand and that of Anne and led them to a window seat.
    Monmouth, ever conscious of his birth, was ready on every occasion to assert his royalty and now implied that he regarded the Villiers girls merely as attendants on the King’s nieces. It was an insult for which Elizabeth would never forgive him.
    As Mary sat on the window seat with Anne, their cousin between them, she noticed that the Villiers girls had disappeared.
    “When are you coming to Court?” asked Monmouth.
    Mary said that neither her father nor her mother had told her.
    “Do they have plenty to eat at Court?” asked Anne, and Monmouth described